A Lower Deep
by Persnicketese
Summary: They had sworn to each other to make it through the battle at Adamant in one piece. She'd come back to him, and he'd fight to make sure he'd be there when she did. Then it all crashed down around them in a storm of lightning and stone. [Spoilers for Here Lies the Abyss]


_Maker, though the darkness comes upon me_

She never wanted this, but what choice did she have? The Mark had flared to life without her willing it and opened a new rift right below them. In hindsight, she supposed it was better than falling to her death. However, being forced into the Fade again? Once had been enough. The Maker apparently thought otherwise.

Fear was a constant gnaw in her belly as she and the others tried to make sense of their surroundings. They'd have to find their way back to the large rift that opened to Adamant, and hope to the Maker that large demon wasn't sitting there waiting for them.

_I shall embrace the light. _

Hope had come in the shape of the Divine. Alis knew it wasn't really her. It was most likely a helpful spirit who had perhaps taken her form to make it easier to accept her help. Regardless of what it actually was, the spirit was a light to the Nightmare's darkness. A blessing considering how hard the Nightmare was trying to break them.

She was weak. It knew that as well as she did. The Nightmare had torn her memories from her, after all. It had been the one to start the cracks that ran through her mind and soul. Being brought into the Fade twice, the near daily battles with demons and constantly sealing rifts helped those cracks grow. Worse still was that within the breaks lurked shadows.

The shadows sang to her with every step she took. She was weak, the shadows whispered sweetly, and she'd fall again. One last fall into oblivion. Whatever she try to stop it wouldn't be enough. She was already lost.

Withdrawing into herself she found strength in the mask of the Inquisitor. The Inquisitor couldn't fall. Alis felt her every step waver. The Inquisitor would see them through, even if Alis felt like she couldn't. She had too many lives riding on her for anything but success. So she'd wouldn't be Alis. She'd be the Inquisitor instead. It was safer that way.

_I shall weather the storm. _

The Nightmare towered over them with its mass of eyes balefully bearing down upon them, ready to kill. Only Hawke and Stroud remained by her side as she stared at the hulking demon. Though how thankful she was dwindled with each passing moment. Someone would have to try to hold that monstrous demon off while the others escaped.

Hawke and Stroud tried to convince the other that they should be the one to stay behind. Each had a reason why they should be the one to hold off the Nightmare. Each knew someone had to be the one who was left behind. They looked to her to make the decision.

Maker help her, she had to choose who would die.

She didn't want to. She wanted to tell them she'd stay instead. Why should someone die for her? Hadn't enough already done so? Alis wanted to tell them they could try to distract it together and maybe they'd survive.

She knew better. Someone had to stay. Someone had to die. She had to choose.

One last lingering moment stretched out before the name fell from her lips in a swell of anguish as tears burned in the corners of her eyes.

Someone stayed. Someone died. She chose.

_I shall endure. _

A twist of her wrist and a snap of her arm and the rift was closed. The Nightmare was stuck in the Fade with the horde of demons. The battle was over.

The victory cry that went up rang hollow in her ears. Soldiers gathered around where she stood, looking at awe at the Herald of Andraste. Once again she had emerged from the Fade. Once again she had stopped the demons. In their eyes they had witnessed the Herald of Andraste working her divine favor in the flesh.

No one saw the shadows in her eyes or the misery that burned in the corners of them. That wasn't for them to see. The Herald was above such feelings. She was the embodiment of hope. How could hope falter? How could it feel such pain? No, those feelings belonged to Alis. Those were her burdens to bear when she could set the mask aside.

"Where is Stroud?"

Apologies and excuses came to her lips, begging to be said. Instead she told them what they needed to hear. He had died a hero, giving them the time they needed to seal the rift. A Warden had put it right in the end. He was the reason the day had been won.

The Wardens had no leader, and they needed direction. The Inquisition would step in and offer them that which they needed. It had been her decision, and she would offer them all they could. She knew some would disapprove, but it didn't matter. The Inquisition needed help and the Wardens wanted to atone.

She made the choice.

_What you have created, no one can tear asunder. _

Weak and faltering the mask was slipping from her. She couldn't pretend anymore. So she sought him out, hoping to catch him alone. She didn't know how much more she could take. She needed Cullen. Maker, please, she needed him.

He was giving orders to his soldiers when he caught sight of her. In a heartbeat he sent his officers away as he came right to her. The look on his face showed every emotion he must have been holding since the battle had begun. Andraste help her, he looked so relieved and yet so scared.

The pain, the worry, the love, the fear, all of it shone bright in his honey colored eyes. It was too much to take. The mask she had been so desperately trying to keep on fell and shattered. There was only Alis now.

She didn't care that there were people around. Whatever they'd say, they could say it. Whatever thoughts they would have didn't matter. Nothing mattered but him. She ran to him.

Cullen nearly crushed her to his body. His tight grip was reassuringly real. She could feel his breath against her ear as his lips moved in a prayer thanking the Maker for bringing her back alive and whole.

She wasn't whole. Even with her memories restored, she felt more fractured then she ever. There were little fissures along the length of her soul; treacherous cracks in ice. Without the mask she was nothing more than the frightened little girl the Nightmare had pegged her to be. How could she even tell Cullen that when he looked so happy?

His hand moved to her chin and brought her face up. Honey colored eyes shone bright in the starlight as kissed her lips hard. His love poured into her but it didn't fill her as it had before. It vanished into the darkness between instead. The familiar taste of spice and sweat turned to ash in her mouth as she felt the cracks grow deeper.

He was alive. She was alive. They were together. It should have been enough. Why did it still hurt? Why did she still feel so broken? She could hear the broken little pieces of herself crashing down and there was nothing she could do to stop them.

"Cullen, stay with me please." She sounded so desperate, even in her own ears. There was nothing left to give but a pleading sob."Please."

Maybe together it would be enough. Maybe with him by her side the nightmares wouldn't reach her. With him she could put it all back together. He'd be her rock as she was for him when he needed her. Together they'd come through it.

The Inquisitor couldn't falter. Hope couldn't fail. It would be enough. It had to be.

The nightmares came anyway. Dark and deep, they threw open a rift not of the sickly green light, but of pure void. There was no escape for her. She fell and fell. Mocking laughter was all she could hear in the darkness. There was nothing she could do.

The shadows had told her. She had tried and it wasn't enough.

Maker help her. It wasn't enough.


End file.
